


Eight Days A Week

by roachpatrol



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-25
Updated: 2011-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roachpatrol/pseuds/roachpatrol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post <em>Journey's End</em> the Doctor and Rose earn their happy ending. It just takes them a little while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Days A Week

  
On Monday, Rose introduces the Doctor to Torchwood.

"Torchwood," she says, "this is the Doctor. He was an alien but now he's human, mostly, and if I catch any of you lot tryin' to dissect him I will be really put out."

Someone in the back raises his hand.

"Yes, Carl?"

"Like, is he a bad alien, sort of thing?"

Rose looks at the Doctor. The Doctor looks at Rose.

"Well?" she asks.

"Er, no," the Doctor says. "I'm a good alien."

Everyone makes vaguely disappointed noises, and shuffles back to work.

*

On Tuesday, they are invaded by the Hugulons, of planet Pupulon. The Hugulons look something like koalas, but mostly like golden puppies, and they take Rose's dad hostage.

"Puppies," he says accusingly to the Doctor, "you let me get kidnapped by _puppies_."

"Puppies with laser-beam eyes," the Doctor mutters.

"Lay off, Pete," Rose says. "It's his first day."

"Look, just tell us your terms," the Doctor says to the Pupulons.

They go into a huddle, then the largest Puplon emerges.

"We want ten, no, _fifteen kilos_ of chocowate!" the Pupulon lisps adorably,  "Or your  Mistaw Pete is gonna get a cold wet nose to the tummy!"

There is much impressed gasping from the other Pupulons.

The Doctor mouths 'what the hell' at Rose. Rose makes a little corkscrew gesture at her temple back at him, and shrugs.

"Does it have to be pure chocolate?" the Doctor asks. "Like, expensive stuff, or are you okay with the kind that's mostly wax?"

There is a huddle. "Waxy chocowate is acceptabuw," the lead Pupulon decrees, "but no nuts."

Rose is cracking up.

The Doctor sighs, and slouches off to the nearest corner shop.

*

Wednesday, pink and purple Daleks roll into the hub. The Doctor freaks out the moment he spots one and chokes on his sandwich.

"No, it's okay," Rose says, pounding his back. "These are the Gaylecks."

"The _Gaelics?_ "

"No, I mean, they're gay. Don't ask me how it works, what with the tin-can-full-of-squiddy-bits thing they've got going on, but they just sort of show up every once in a while to hand out sex-positive literature and sneer at our decorating."

"You're kidding me."

"No I am not. Here, I saved the pamphlet I got last time, if you pull the tab it wiggles the bloke's--"

"Rose Tyler, you are _bloody kidding me_."

"Nope."

The Doctor stares at the nearest Dalek. It scans him up and down with its eyestalk and makes a noise suspiciously similar to a wolf-whistle.

"I think you've made a friend," Rose says, grinning wickedly.

"I'm going home," the Doctor says, "to wash all over with bleach."

"It's under the bathroom sink," Rose says, and goes back to her paperwork.

*

Thursday, a party of gigantic sabretooth alien tigers materialize downtown. They appear to be tourists. They wander leisurely around, take lots of pictures, and don't even try to eat anyone at all.

"This is complete bollocks," the Doctor says, unhappily posing with one of them in front of the London Eye.

"Shut up and smile," Rose says, and takes a picture.

*

Friday, the Doctor sleeps through his alarm.

He wakes up late and rushes off to Torchwood HQ.

"Am I late?" he demands. "Did anything awful happen? Did I miss it? Is everyone alright?"

Rose hands him a clipboard. "You missed half an hour of sensitivity training," she says. "I'm very disappointed in you."

"Oh."

The Doctor sits down with his clipboard, feeling unaccountably crushed.

"Actually I don't really give a toss," Rose says.

He feels a bit better.

"Also there's cake afterwards."

He feels a lot better.

*

Saturday, alien warships descend over the President of Briton's summer home. The Doctor staggers out of bed to see Rose and her mum lounging in front of the TV, eating popcorn.

"Those green octopus blokes've challenged the President to mortal combat for something or other, I think it was rights to the solar system," Jackie explains.

"What kind of combat?" the Doctor asks. "Swordfight? Bare knuckles? Russian Chat Roulette?"

"Cricket," Rose says.

"Oooo _ooh_ ," the Doctor says jealously.

"It's our day off," Rose reminds him. "We're not going."

"Rose," he whines, " _Cricket._ "

"No." She resolutely eats some more popcorn.

On the screen, the President nervously drops the ball on his foot.

"Cricket," the Doctor moans, draping himself over the back of the sofa, "Cricket Cricket Cricket--"

"WILL YOU SHUT IT," Jackie shouts.

"Jackiiie," the Doctor whines, undeterred.

"Go on, get," Jackie tells them both.  
  
"Mummmm," Rose whines.   
  
" _Get_."

They get, the Doctor bouncing excitedly, Rose trudging along behind just slow enough to shoot her mother one last betrayed look as she shuts the front door.

"Bloody aliens," Jackie mutters, and changes the channel to Westenders.

*

Sunday, a party of Mox open up a wormhole in the kitchen just as the Doctor is finishing perfecting the 'toast' setting on his screwdriver.

"Hello," the Doctor says to them, brandishing the device, "I hope you're not planning on invading or anything nasty like that, are you?"

"Oh, no, not at all," one Mox says. "This was just a scientific experiment, terribly sorry about the fuss. Would you mind telling us if we're on Earth?"

"Er, yes." Feeling a little foolish, the Doctor sets down his screwdriver. "Earth, England, London."

"Bugger," the Mox says, "We were aiming for Manchester."

"....Right," the Doctor says. "Would you like some toast?"

"Ta," says the Mox, and they all very politely take a slice, compliment him on the perfect gold-brown consistency, and then file quietly back into their wormhole.

"Manchester," the Doctor says disappointedly, and goes to see if the 'toast' setting works on bacon. 

*

On Monday, the Doctor finds Rose in the employee cafeteria and sits down beside her.

"Rose," the Doctor says after stealing her pudding, "not to sound like I'm complaining or anything, but--"

"But where are all the _bad_ aliens?"

"...Yes."

"There aren't any in this universe," Rose says. "This is apparently the _nice_ universe. Like in Star Trek, only the universe we came from is the one with the beardy Spock, and this one's the one where everyone's good. And when they aren't good, they're a bit pathetic."

"Oh," the Doctor says. He sits there for a moment, digesting this. "Doesn't it get..."

"Really boring?"

"Yeah."

"Yep. Really, really boring."

"D'you fancy fixing the Dimension Canon, then?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Rose helps him finish the pudding, and then they wander off, hand in hand, to liberate the hell out of some company property and _finally_ live happily ever after.


End file.
